Death the Kid and the Broken Soul
by Eleos Argentum
Summary: Order of the Phoenix. When Harry is attacked by Dementors, Lord Death sends Kid to investigate. It doesn't take much for him to notice the soul fragment clenched to The-Boy-Who-Lived. And that's how the Hunt of the Horcruxes begins… which includes the Resurrection Stone, one of the Deathly Hallows.
1. Death Notification

**Summary:** Order of the Phoenix. When Harry is attacked by Dementors, Lord Death sends Kid to investigate. It doesn't take much for him to notice the soul fragment clenched to The-Boy-Who-Lived. And that's how the Hunt of the Horcruxes begins…

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and everything related was created by J.K. Rowling. Soul Eater is from Atsushi Okubo.

I'm using "Lord Death" instead of "Shinigami-sama" because Death City is located in Nevada; doesn't make sense to use the Japanese, at least to me.

**Spoiler (?) **I'm basing in the Manga since is way cooler than the Anime (A Fist of Courage? Really? Hate it for the same reason I hate Masaru from Digimon Savers). But in this story, Lord Death doesn't die until Kid reaches adulthood.

**Death the Kid and the Broken Soul.**

Chapter One.

_Death Notification._

It was past midnight when the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, allowed himself a well-earned glass of firewhisky to celebrate his victory over Dumbledore and that brat Harry Potter.

After their little charade last June –at the end of the Triwizard Tournament, none the least!-, blaming the unfortunate decease –and clearly an accident- of the Diggory boy on Lord V- He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and proclaiming his return to the world; he finally had managed to overthrown them –and thanks to Potter's thirst for attention! HA! Love the irony!

Fudge helped himself with a second glass of liquor. Potter's Hearing was a mere formality; the boy was as good as expelled. True, Dumbledore wouldn't let it go that easy, but, let's be honest, what could the man do? Potter had performed a _Patronus_ spell (an underaged wizard performing magic out of school!) in front of a muggle (doesn't matter the muggle in question was his cousin and aware of the magical community existence in the first place) claiming he was defending himself and his aforementioned relative from two Dementors.

_Two. Dementors._

Potter hadn't just dared to perform magic when and where and with whom he wasn't allowed to, but he also had dared to blame the Ministry for it! The guts of that boy…!

Fudge gulped the rest of his drink down. No worry. He was about to get rid of the blasted boy!

But, there still was Dumbledore, he must not forget that. The old geyser was, **more likely than not**, to put resistance. He might say it wasn't Potter's fault; that the boy was perturbed due to the trauma of Diggory's death –who said Potters wasn't the one responsible for _that_?- or for the damage the killing curse had caused to the boy's brain when he was just a baby. And maybe that was what had happened, Maybe Potter had had another hallucination –like the Dark Lord returning one- and he truly thought he was being attacked by Dementors.

Slowly, Fudge put his empty glass on his desk.

He had to admit that part of him felt sorry for the boy; but still, he was too dangerous, for his own and other people's sake. The best thing he could do for everyone –the boy included- was to keep him under control, away from anyone he may harm…

What if Dumbledore tried to prove that there had been Dementors in that alley? Impossible! Preposterous! Fudge knew it, but still, with all his craziness and weirdness, Dumbledore was an extremely talented wizard. A few months ago, Fudge would never have suspected Hogwarts Headmaster of lying or trying to fabricate evidence, but now…

With trembling hands, the Minister of Magic poured a new glass of firewhisky; something that had started as a celebration had turned into a battle for calming his wrecking nerves…

Just when his lips were about to touch the cool glass once again, a chiming bell like sound echoed in his empty office; the crystal surface of the enchanted window which dominated the place turned foggy, giving way to static and finally settling to show a tall man clad in black and wearing a cartoonish skull mask.

"Hi, hi. Hello there, Minister of Magic Fudge~"

Despite the cheery greeting, Fudge became wax pale; his hand trembled so much that his drink slipped from his grasp, crashing to the ground and bursting in an explosion of glass and alcohol.

"L-lord _D-Death_…" The wizard stuttered the name he rather not say, falling into his chair and grasping the armrests for dear life; the hard wood hurt his fingers but there were more important, _more pressing_ matters at hand to worry about than a little of pain. He said in a squeak: "W-what do I owe the p-pleasure of your call…?"

Ignoring the evident fright of the man, Lord Death answered in his trademark cheery voice: "I heard rumors about two Dementors attacking two children over there…"

_Damn you, Potter!_

"…and due to our last talk on June, when that Dementor gave that poor man the Kiss…"

_Damn you, Crouch Jr.!_

"…and then, the year before when you allowed the Dementors to patrol a school and granted them permission to Kiss that runaway convict –even thought I strictly forbid it- and they almost Kiss those children…"

_Damn you, Black! Damn you again, Potter!_

"Well, Strike Three; you're out." Lord Death bent forward and Fudge stumbled backward. "I'm exterminating the Coward's Blood. Take this as a chance to find more fitting guardians for your prison."

"But Potter wasn't attacked!" cried the Ministry vehemently; the words fell out of his mouth quickly, greatly helped by the firewhisky. "He's bad on the head! He has hallucinations and he just wants to get attention! He invents all kind of crazy stories! There's nothing wrong with Azkaban Dementors! They are under the Ministry control! They wouldn't dare to go against us!"

"The Ministry ordered to attack those children?"

"There wasn't an attack, milord, I'm telling you! Potter-"

Lord Death cut him off. "So, you already investigated the matter carefully?"

"There's nothing to investigate, Sir! The boy invented it!"

"There is a claim of a Dementor's attack," the Grim Reaper stated slowly, "and you haven't even investigated it?"

Fudge's forehead became covered in sweat. "I-I'll start the investigation right away, sir…"

"Too late~!" Death's singsong voice cut him off. "You had your chance." He looked over his shoulder. "Hey, Kiddo! What you say about a trip to England?"

The shock and pure horror of seeing Lord Death manifesting on his office had prevented Fudge to take notice of the young boy sat on a tall golden chair at the Grim Reaper's back, nor the two girls leaning casually at each of his sides.

"Of course, Father."

"There you go," exclaimed Lord Death happily, facing Fudge once again. "Kid will take care of the investigation. If it turns out there was a Dementor attack, you'll have 24 hours after Kid's notification to name new guardians to your prison; once the time has passed, Kid will proceed to exterminate the Dementors.

"If there wasn't an attack, then you'll have a week.

"W-WHAT?!" The wizard's mouth opened and closed several times until he finally recovered his capability of speech. "B-but you can't do that! _Sir! _ I mean… We need the Dementors! They are the only ones fit to custody Azkaban!"

"Meh. I've been wanting to get rid of those things for a long while, and now that Kiddo has become so strong I finally can do just that~!" Lord Death waved his overly large hand in dismissal. "Honestly, the only reason I even allowed you people to use them as guards was to keep them confined in one place instead of roaming freely, eating souls.

"Now, let's see… There is a difference of eight hours between here and there, so… Son, when do you want to get there? Do you like eight o'clock?"

The boy nodded, grinning, while the older girl rolled her eyes.

"Very well~! Kid and the girls will see you on Wednesday, 4th August at the place of the attack at eight o'clock~! Don't be late and remember to bring the children who were attacked~"

Fudge stared at the Grim Reaper. It couldn't be! That was definitely not happening! Lord Death had not just notified him of the Dementors' imminent destruction!

"B-but, My Lord! One of those boys is a… a Muggle!"

"Oh, no! That's terrible!... What's a Muggle?"

The shaky wizard stared wide eye at the dark figure. "A-a Muggle, Sir, is a non magical person…"

"And why don't you just call them that?"

"Hey! I'm a Muggle?" questioned the blond girl behind Lord Death.

"Well", the other girl bit her lip thoughtfully, "we do turn in Weapons while must people can't… I guess it could be considered a magical ability? Kid?"

"Just a tag to make a distinction between the abilities of different individuals, as Meisters and Weapons," he shrugged. "Doesn't matter as long as it doesn't lead to discrimination."

"So, what's the problem with that boy being not magical…?" asked Lord Death.

Fudge stared with his mouth wide open. Truly, Lord Death knew…

"Well… You see, my Lord… The International Code of Wizarding Secrecy…"

Death tilted his head. "The what?"

The Minister of Magic gaped, incredulous; his mouth tried to articulate sounds but it took him a while (with Death waiting patiently for an answer, _which didn't help in the least_) until he finally remembered how to speak.

"The Secrecy Status… Sir… was created in 1692 to hide the Wizarding Community from the Muggles… The main purpose of the Ministry of Magic is to prevent Muggles from learning about the existence of magic…"

"Oh, yes… the infamous Secrecy Status…" The Grim Reaper might have rolled his eyes under the mask. "I've never understood why you needed that… But how does this have anything to do with conducting the investigation? One of the children does magic, right? And the other is his cousin, right? Doesn't he know about magic?"

"O-of course, my Lord…"

"Then I don't see any problem."

"O-of course there isn't…"

"All set then~! Kid and the girls will see you and the children the day after tomorrow~!

"Now, about those other rumors about that Voldemort guy's return…"

_DAMN YOU DUMBLEDORE!_


	2. A Deathly Serious Conversation

**Death the Kid and the Broken Soul.**

Chapter Two.

_A Deathly Serious Conversation._

_Harry,_

_There will be an investigation about the Dementors attack tomorrow at 8. We'll pick you and your cousin up at 7:30; please have your belongings packed and ready._

_Don't worry; everything is going to be alright._

_Arthur Weasley._

-o-o-o-

The morning of August 3rd found Lucius Malfoy strolling at the Ministry of Magic. He was there with a double purpose; first and most important, gathered information for his Lord, both about the Prophecy and the attack suffered by Potter the night before; and second, to discuss some matters with the fool in charge that will lead to some personal advantages, a necessity in those times in which the _trash_ seems to have rights. At least, until the Dark Lord raised in his full glory and took the power from the hands of those unworthy to wield it and use it in favor of those of pure blood.

The first hint that something was amiss was the lack of Fudge's trusty toad from her usual post just outside of the Minister's office. Though, that had happened a few times before, when the toad had had to run some errands for the stupid fool. So Lucius just dismissed it and proceeded to knock at the Minister's door; however he was quickly stopped by a nervous looking witch.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but the Minister will not received anyone today."

The man's eyes narrowed. "He will receive me." His voice gave no chance of reply, but the stupid woman did just that.

"I'm really sorry, sir, but the Minister was clear: the only one he will be seeing today is Mr. Scrimgeour."

At this, Lucius raised his eyebrow. It must be something of the utmost importance if the only man Fudge was willing to talk to was the Head of the Auror Office. This was vital information for his Master, either if it was related to the Prophecy or Potter or neither of them.

Therefore, Lucius Malfoy decided to wait… Fudge had to leave his office eventually.

-o-o-o-

It took a couple of hours, but finally the door to the Minister's office opened. Fudge looked completely worn-out; dark circles beneath his eyes contrast deeply with his pale skin; his robes were all wrinkled and stained, to the point it looked like he had been wearing them for the past couple of weeks instead of the day before. Malfoy's nose twitched when the odor of alcohol reached it.

It was that the Minister didn't want to see anyone or that he didn't want to be seen by anyone?

"Minister?" Malfoy's silky voice almost made the man jump out of his skin.

The wizard blinked at him a couple of times, like if he couldn't see him clearly or wasn't able to recognized him. Finally acknowledgment damped in his face.

"Lucius… I'm sorry…" His voice was hoarse. "It's not the best time… Actually, I don't see how there could be an any worse time… Poor Delores was so shocked she had to take the day off; she, who hadn't taken a single sick-day since she started working for the Ministry all those years ago… I'd love to do the same, truth be told, but I cannot afford such a luxury…" In a mechanical movement, Fudge passed his handkerchief over his sweaty forehead.

A sympathetic smile graced Malfoy's lips; however, it didn't reach his cold eyes. "If there is anything I can do to help you, Cornelius, please do tell. There is nothing more important than helping a friend in their time of need…"

"If this has anything to do with Dumbledore or Potter… you can be sure I support you completely.

To Malfoy's surprise, The Minister broke in a fit of hysterical laughter that was shortly replaced by a streak of tears. "Oh, it does, IT DOES. It's their entire fault, truly. _If it wasn't for them…"_ His voice was thick with venom and hatred and fear and desperation…

Fudge **had** to talk to someone… It was too much stress; he was at the verge of losing his mind… He had…

"Lucius, _please_, come with me."

The Minister pulled Malfoy from his arm with vehemence, leading him away from his office. The blond wizard's eyes opened in surprise, and it only grew when the Minister pushed him into a supply closet.

Fudge inspected the room carefully. Not a single reflective surface. Thought, that didn't assured that Lord Death couldn't listen. Anyway he casted some spells to guard the small room and kept the matter that was about to be discuss in the utmost secrecy (until the other person in the conversation went running to told his Master even the smallest word spoken in there).

"Lucius, I know I can trust you, and I really need to talk to someone right now…" Fudge's hands were twitching and trembling and the wizard tried to keep them stiff by pressing them together only to give way to a nervous playing. He breathed deep and allowed the words to escape his lips. "Potter claims he was attacked by Dementors and… _Him…_ heard about it…"

Lucius' eyebrows rose. "Him…?"

Fudge nodded in exasperation. "_**Him**__!"_ He stressed the syllable before muttering haunted. "…_The Grim Reaper…_"

"Oh…" Lucius was even paler than usual and his cane started trembling violently in his hand. "Oh!"

Now that Fudge had finally allowed himself to talk about it with someone more understanding than Scrimgeour and not as dramatic as Umbridge, he felt compelled to spit everything out.

"He's sending his son to investigate! _His son!_ I didn't even know he had a child! I mean, how is that even possible?!" Fudge was becoming hysterical. "Where did the child come from? Did he kill the parents and take the boy? And I don't even want to ponder the other possibility! I mean, he is **DEATH** FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! How can he give life to anything?! There can't be a Lady Death! THERE CAN'T BE!

"And he is set in exterminating the Dementors!" Fudge lamented. "I have a week to replace them as Azkaban guardians… And he heard Dumbledore's stupid rumors about You-Know-Who…!"

Malfoy's back stiffened at the mention of the Dark Lord.

"He hates Death Eaters! 'Highly disrespectful' said the boy! Why, oh why You-Know-Who followers couldn't choose a different attire…? Dressing like _HIM_…! And their name… THEIR NAME, LUCIUS! Why they had to go and mock _Him?!_

Fudge had started crying and (after hearing Death's opinion about Voldemort's follower choice of clothing and name) Lucius was at the verge of joining him.

"He kept mixing up Grindelwald and You-Know-Who… Imagine that! How powerful he must be to take those two so lightly!" whimpered he who possessed the highest rank in the Magical Community.

"Have you informed Dumbledore about this?" questioned Malfoy in a whisper, having no doubt in his mind about Hogwarts Headmaster already knowing about Death's son imminent arrival.

"Of course not! The last I need is him mingling with something so important!" retorted the Minister clearly upset. "Oh…! But Potter has to be there. And Dumbledore is surely going to be there," spat Fudge with fury between tears. "This is his entire fault! He must have told _Him_ about this!"

Malfoy gulped and inhaled deep. "And when is… the son coming…?"

"Tomorrow. In the morning."

The aristocratic Death Eater nodded slowly, doing his best to remain cool and not let his fear go on the loose; he had to act. "Would be correct to assume you already had chosen a guard…?"

"Of course Scrimgeour is coming, and Shacklebolt, Dawlish, Williamson, Proudfoot, Savage…"

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, Minister, but all of them are Aurors…"

"Of course they are! I wouldn't dare to face Dea- that child otherwise!" stated Fudge.

"May I suggest you bring Macnair, from the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures? If you only bring Aurors to meet with _his son_, _Him_ may feel… offended…"

Fudge's face turned a sickly green color at the thought.

"… but if someone from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures goes with you, then you'll look cooperative…"

"Of course," nodded the Minister vigorously. "And maybe I'll be able to convince him to give us more time… or to forget the whole idea!"

Despise the fear, Lucius smiled quietly to himself. Sometimes it was just too easy to manipulate that little stupid excuse of a wizard… He didn't think that Death changing his mind about the Dementors or even delaying his deadline (no pun intended) was remotely likely or even possible, and by believing such a thing Fudge had only managed to rank higher in his 'The Most Stupid Ape to Ever Wield a Wand' list (if that was even possible), but the Dark Lord surely would appreciate, not only the information he had just gathered, but the fact his most loyal follower (Malfoy, of course; Bellatrix who…?) had managed to sneaked a fellow Death Eater (Knights of Walpurgis wasn't that bad of a name for a cheerful party of Dark Wizards trying to take over the Ministry after all…) at the arrival of Death's brat; he had surely won some points with his master at achieving this, maybe enough to make him forget about all the Diary fiasco…?

Wishful thinking…

"How old is his son?"

"Oh, he's just a child… Must be around Potter's age, younger even…" Fudge dismissed, too focused in finding ways to obtain Death's favor.

Lucius pushed a little more, trying to learn more about the Grim Reaper but Fudge proved to be completely useless (_again_). He was so stupid he didn't even know the boy's name (the understanding of this almost gave the wizard a seizure).

-o-o-o-

Voldemort caressed Nagini's head, listening intently as Malfoy nervously explained the latest news; nor his face nor his movements betrayed the deep fear he felt.

So Death had a child… A Half-blood? Likely. The idea of Death adopting a kid that wasn't his kin was laughable for someone who had been raised in an orphanage.

If he had known a few months before, and had managed to get a hold on some of the child's blood… He could have used him instead of Potter in his Resurrection, even if Death himself nor his offspring didn't considered him as an enemy.

Because Voldemort did.

His true enemy -from the same moment he had been born- had been Death; even since before he had embraced his true identity as a wizard, he had fear Death.

True, he wouldn't have the protection the Mudblood's sacrifice offered… But that truly was nothing compared to the power the Grim Reaper's blood must contained.

Well, it didn't matter now. There was nothing he could do about that particular matter; but there surely were a few things he could do regarding… other matters.

A gift received on his first trip to Diagon Alley… a demonstration of compassion towards a poor orphan boy…

A children's book.

Among the stories there was one…

_The Tale of the Three Brothers._

He had dismissed it as soon as he had read it, of course. But it had been truly the very first thing that allowed him to dream about avoiding Death.

Over the years, over his constant search for immortality, Beedle's tale had resurfaced every once in a while; he had heard the rumors about the Deathly Hallows and their power to conquer Death himself. And he dismissed them every single time.

It had seemed so stupid for him to think that Death would be so reckless as to give away so easily items that held great power over him.

And he still thought that.

But he wondered…

He wondered…

What kind of parent Death was? Was he like that useless muggle Riddle? Or was he like that mudblood Lily Potter, willing to sacrifice everything for her child…?


	3. Near Death Experience

First thing:

Thank you to all you, wonderful people, who have favorited and/or are following this fic

THANKS!

Now, I'm not that crazy about how this chapter turned off... It isn't bad, but it still doesn't satisfy my ridiculous standards of perfection...

I'll appreciate all and any of your constructive criticism and suggestions.

Next chapter is rather short, so I'll be posting it next week instead of the biweekly lapsus I've been working on.

Please, enjoy.

* * *

**Death the Kid and the Broken Soul.**

Chapter Three.

_Near Death Experience._

Harry looked nervously through the window, just a brief moment, before returning his attention back to whatever he was occupied with at the time. This had repeated constantly since he had woken up at 5:00 a.m.

He hadn't told his aunt or uncle about the investigation –more precisely, the fact that Duddley had to take part of it.

What they didn't know couldn't hurt him.

And their "perfect" beloved son being dragged into some freakish wizarding affair was potentially… hurtful…

He glanced at the clock.

6:44

Harry's green eyes traveled to the window once again.

Private Drive was eerily quiet. Usually, at that hour, the street had some degree of activity: people getting ready to work, the mailman and the milkman making their rounds, some ladies talking over the bushes that separated their homes…

But not that day.

The familiar noises were missing.

Time passed by, but the Dursleys didn't wake up. Harry pressed his ear to the door, and sure enough, there were his uncle's snores.

It was passed the hour his uncle and aunt began their day. Still, they didn't wake up and Harry wasn't stupid to try and awake them. It wasn't like he could leave the room anyway.

When the clock finally reached 7:30, someone knocked at the front door. Harry hurried to his window and peaked outside; there, in front of the number 4, stood Mr. Weasley and Professor Moody.

"Mr. Weasley!" Harry called.

Ron's father looked in his direction and Harry was able to distinguish a tired and kinda forced smile in his face.

"Silence, boy!" greeted Moody in a hiss. "Do you want to reveal our position to the enemy?!"

"Harry, would you be so kind to open the door so we can talk inside?"

"I'm sorry, I can't. I'm locked in my room and my relatives are still asleep."

"Of course they are." Harry almost wasn't able to hear Moody's whispered words.

The old wizard leant over to the door and Harry could hear the hinges creaking, easy enough in the abnormal silence of the street. Two minutes later the two wizards were standing in his room.

"Next time you are the focus of a recovering mission, try to be a little more subtle, Potter!" admonished the ex-Auror; his eyes narrowed slightly. _"If that is who you are…"_

"I'm sorry, Professor."

"Professor," spat Moody. "Like I ever gave you a class… Weasley, make sure he is who he says he is!"

Mr. Weasley smiled to Harry rather apologetically. "Harry, when Sirius escaped Azkaban two years ago, how did you get to know that the Ministry suspected he was after you?"

"I heard you speaking to your wife about it at the Leaky Cauldron."

Mr. Weasley nodded to Mad-Eye.

"Very well then; put your invisibility cloak in your pocket and keep your wand in your hand," grumbled Moody. "We'll wake up your guardians and go."

"Don't worry about your luggage.

"About that, sir… I didn't tell them that you were coming today, nor that Dudley has to come with us," confessed the boy.

"Excellent, Potter!" Moody nodded approvingly. "Don't let them now until the last second!"

"We better wake them up and explain," sighed Mr. Weasley.

There was a nervous vibe surrounding the man and Harry wondered briefly if his previous encounter with the Dursleys the last summer had anything to do with it.

Or if there was something else… Maybe related to Voldemort…?

-o-o-o-

So far, it was going better than Harry had expected.

"AND WHAT THE HELL GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO INVOLVE MY SON IN YOUR STUPID THINGS OF WEIRDOS?! WHY THE HELL DO YOU THINK I'M TO ALLOW THIS?!"

"Do you think we like this more than you?" Moody spat back. "Taking Potter in the open like this is begging to be attack! But since Death is who ordered this we have no choice but to obey!"

Uncle Vernon's mustache trembled with violence, but was Aunt Petunia who voiced the question in Harry's mind.

"Death?" She squeaked.

"Lord Death, the Grim Reaper." Mr. Weasley said softly. Harry hadn't noticed before just how paled he was. "Since there were Dementors involved, he has taken a personal interest."

Uncle Vernon mouthed several times before he finally managed to article a coherent sentence that pretty much resume his opinion regarding anything and everything related to magic: "Nonsense!"

"You mean there _is_ a Grim Reaper, Mr. Weasley?" questioned Harry aghast.

The man nodded. "He usually doesn't get involved in Wizards affairs, unless they concern souls, that is. And since Dementors fed on human happiness and souls… he decided that you being attacked is worth of his attention."

"Why now? Dementors have given troubles before. Just last June…" Harry didn't dare to continue; talking about Crouch Jr. being kissed was too close of talking about Cedric.

Moody shrugged. "He always was against Dementors guarding Azkaban, or they being in contact with people, period. But he allowed wizards to use them for the last centuries, even if reluctantly.

"Now it seems that has finally come to an end and the Minister has completely freaked out.

Vernon's face had turned red with white spots and the vein in his head was throbbing. "That's it! Enough is enough! There is no way I'll let Dudley take part on this charade!"

So far Dudley had not said a word, but it probably was due to the fact he was about to faint.

Uncle Vernon continued with his outburst. "Let's say this is the true Grim Reaper we are talking about! You expect me to leave my son go and meet him?!"

"Don't be stupid, Dursley! Death isn't conducting the investigation! His son is."

That wasn't reassuring for Aunt Petunia.

"My poor innocent Dudders is going nowhere with _the likes of you!_" spat she.

"We do not expect for you to leave your son on our care just like that; even less regarding such an important matter. You may come with us if you want," offered Mr. Weasley. "But I'm afraid your son must come with Harry."

"Would you rather have Death coming to your house looking for your son, eh, Muggle?" Moody's scared mouth contorted in a sinister grin. "Death waits for no one."

"You said Death wasn't conducting the investigation!" protested Petunia.

"As a parent, would you like it if someone makes your child wait and ends never showing off?" retorted the ex-Auror. "We have to be there at eight, so you either come with us or I'll drag you…"

-o-o-o-

For Harry it was the weirdest thing ever –crossing Privet Drive, heading to Magnolia Street, in company of Mr. Weasley, Professor Moody and the Dursleys.

The three wizards walked ahead, with the family of three tailing behind at what Harry assumed was his Aunt's definition of 'safe distance', meaning a few blocks away, eyeing the near houses, praying that no one would peek out and see her and her family in such company…

Still, they were coming.

Harry also looked around, at the deserted neighborhood.

"Mister Weasley? Why is everything so... quiet?"

"Mh?" The redheaded wizard returned to reality slowly. "Ah! Since the investigation is being conducted at this hour, a sleeping spell has been cast over the Muggles. They'll wake up once we are finished, thinking they overslept. God bless them!"

"Why is it at this hour? Wouldn't it be better to do it at night?"

"I think Lord Death set the hour," Mr. Weasley murmured, blinking nervously.

"Oh."

Harry didn't know still how to digest the news that his future at Hogwarts was about to be decided by the son of Death himself, neither the fact that there actually _existed_ a **Grim Reaper.** There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he knew it wasn't the best time; however, his curiosity and the oppressive silence finally managed to get the best of him.

"About Lord Death… Who is he? Is he truly… you know, _the Grim Reaper?_"

Mr. Weasley stiffened and Moody gave him an evil eye (with both his normal and magical eye, mind you).

"He is," mumbled Moody reluctantly. "Death personification."

"Have… have you see him?"

The old man remained silence for a moment. "A few times… I saw him… and his son, twice" he admitted reluctantly. "When I was Head of Aurors I was called to attend every time one of the guys who preceded Millicent Bagnold (the Minister before Fudge) tried to ask him to take care of Voldemort. Always the same answer: _not in the list_," grumbled Moody

"No one knows what kind of reasoning he uses to choose whom to… take," explained Mr. Weasley in a whisper. "He never went after You-Know-Who, though he did send some of his people for some Death Eaters."

"They didn't even let a body behind…" Moody' voice was distant, lost in remembrance. "Every witness said the exact same thing: '_They just burst in shadows'_."

Harry shivered and focused his sight in front of him. They weren't too far away from Magnolia Street.

"Listen, Potter."

Harry looked at Moody surprised; he hadn't expected him to say anything else.

"Lord Death isn't all he seems to be… Pretty scary when he wants to." Moody still had that far away look in his eye. "He doesn't give a damn about the Secrecy and he can be… quite eccentric."

Harry nodded.

"Whatever you may see, whatever you may think about his son, don't trust; don't trust him and don't trust your own impressions."

-o-o-o-

Fudge stood at the entrance of Magnolia Street, flanked by two wizards, most likely than not Aurors, Harry decided: a dark tall bald man with a single gold hooped earring and an older one with a leonine air about him, with tawny hair streaked with grey and wire-rimmed spectacles; close to them was a man who Harry recognized as MacNair, the one who was supposed to execute Buckbeak a little more than a year ago and one of the Death Eaters who had assisted at Voldemort's re-birthday party last June.

Harry's grip on his wand tightened and red sparks flew from the magic wood.

Mr. Weasley put a hand on the boy's shoulder and Harry breathed deep; giving the Minister any proof of "him losing it" wouldn't do him any good; if nothing, it would send him straight to Saint Mungo or even Azkaban. Luckily enough, Fudge didn't seem to notice; he was too focused on his pocket watch.

The older wizard –Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Department, as Mr. Weasley informed Harry- bent over to the Minister and whispered in his ear. The wizard of the ridiculous lime green bowler hat snapped to attention and turned to look at Harry with hatred.

"I hope you'll be happy!" He spat. "Your stupid joke has set _Him_ on edge! And you don't want him to be upset; trust me!"

Harry did, at least on that one.

Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Duddley remained perfectly quiet and unnaturally still, having good care of facing the wizards, or rather not turning their backs on them; Uncle Vernon was in front of his wife and son, somewhat shielding them from the freaks.

It was a good thing, Harry decided, that he was so wary of anyone related to magic, otherwise he would probably befriend Fudge once the two of them had shared their very personal opinions regarding Harry, and having both Uncle Vernon and the Minister of Magic yelling at him and insulting him wasn't exactly something Harry was looking forward for.

And he wasn't in the mood to wonder how likely that truly could be…

A patronus –shaped in the form of a horse- appeared and announced in a deep voice:

"Professor Dumbledore has arrived, sir."

Fudge's face turned a beet red. He bit his lip and refused to look as the Headmaster of Hogwarts walked casually down the street, dressed in a deep blue silk robe, escorted by a tall wizard with long hair in a ponytail and a scarlet robe

"Minister," Dumbledore nodded politely to the man, earning in return a series of grumbled noises and the refusal of Fudge to properly acknowledge him. He proceeded to greet the other men in Fudge's party. "Mr. Scrimgeour, Mr. Shacklebott, Mr. MacNair." His voice didn't betray him when he spoke the Death Eater's name. He then turned to Harry. "Alastor, Arthur, I hope everything went smooth…?" A quick nod from Mr. Weasley and a dark grin from Moody. "Mr. Potter." Harry was kinda shock by the cold treatment and the lack of any reassurance. "Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, I apologize for the short notice and any inconvenience this procedure may cause you."

Uncle Vernon did a great imitation of an engine with big need of a massive check-up and tune.

Dumbledore kept smiling while retrieving a golden watch from his pocket. "It wouldn't be long…" muttered he, studying his watch.

No sooner had he said this when a silver Jack Rabbit came running and skipping.

"Sir, Death the Kid and the Thompson sisters, Liz and Patty, are already here," a female voice from the rabbit informed Fudge.

The wizard paled and stumbled backwards, being saved of falling by Kingsley. "He named the child after himself…?"

Some minutes passed by while they waited for the newcomers; suddenly, Harry gasped in surprise. Wand in hand, Moody sent him a cautious glance but the Boy-Who-Lived just shook his head. He dug his hand on his pocket, where his invisibility cloak stood warm -instead of its cool usual self- and a wave of electricity shook his hand away.

Harry frowned in confusion; nothing like that had _ever_ happened before. He felt a stare fixed on him and looked around, but no one seemed to be looking in his direction

Everyone looked nervous, which was expected since they all were there waiting for Death (the Kid); Aunt Petunia and Duddley remained silent, the mother hugging her son tightly; Uncle Vernon was closed, still shielding them, muttering unintelligible, but Harry was pretty sure it was something in the line of "weirdos dragging honest, working people in their stupid affairs"; MacNair's hand twitched, probably missing his axe; Fudge appeared to be at the edge of having a seizure, while his guards' eyes shone with a paranoiac light that rivaled even Moody's, which –by the way- seemed to be about to jump and hexed everyone in close range; Mr. Weasley's grip on Harry's shoulder was becoming painful. Even Harry himself felt dread and worry.

The only one who seemed to be cool and collected was Dumbledore, twirling his wand in his fingers, immersed in his own thoughts.

Some minutes passed until the echo of several pair of feet approached the gathered group; a tough-looking wizard with very short wiry hair and a pretty young woman with heart-shaped face and bubble-gum pink hair were escorting two attractive girls clothed in similar cowboy outfits (Harry assumed they were the Thompson Sisters) and a smaller figure clad in black and wearing a cartoonish skull mask.

Fudge's eyes widened and his body began to shiver.

The Aurors –Moody included- shifted to even more guarding postures, while the Death Eater _incognito_ step back, trying to blend in the shadows as to not be noticed. Even Mr. Weasley's hold on Harry's shoulder stiffened, digging his nails in the boy's arm.

Aunt Petunia let out a shriek, Duddley yelped and Uncle Vernon grunted.

How could a child -in what Harry assumed to be a Halloween costume- put on edge so many skillful wizards –and Fudge? The Dursleys' reactions he could understand (in all honesty, he hadn't expected anything less), but the others' seemed a little too farfetched and exaggerated to him.

The skull mask turned in the young wizard's direction, and a cold shiver ran down his back; even if just for a brief moment, Harry got the impression the eyes behind the mask were fixed on him –watching far away within him.

The Minister finally managed to recover and step forward. "M-My Lord!" stuttered he. "How much you resemble your father…"

The taller girl snickered while the shorter one fell to the ground in convulsive laughter.

"Of course I do. My mask and cloak are the same as his," deadpanned a young American voice, causing the two girls to laugh harder.

Fudge chuckled nervously, taking his hat off and whipping away the sweat from his forehead, a rather recurrent habit by then.

"I didn't know you will be accompanied…"

Patty laughed. "Silly! Of course we came with Kid! We are his weapons, duh!"

Liz looked around suspiciously, hugging herself like she was cold.

"Can we skip formalities and go right to the deal, Kid? This place gives me the creeps…" she asked pouting.

"Don't worry; it will be just a moment." Kid slid his mask over his head, revealing his serious pale face, mismatched black and white-striped hair and ringed golden eyes.

Moody grumbled uncomfortably near Harry: "More than twenty years and he hasn't changed one bit…" he growled.

The young Reaper looked at where The-Boy-Who-Lived and his cousin (still at a safe distance) stood and raised his eyebrows. "I'm guessing they were the ones attacked…?" he said pointing with his head.

"That's what he claims, My Lord! But I assure you nothing like that ever happened!" protested the Minister. "Azkaban Dementors-"

Kid rolled his eyes and cut him off. "They are evil creatures who fed on human souls, and that's exactly why my Father wants me to exterminate them. Today we are only determining if that will happen tomorrow or next week; that's all. They will be taken care of regardless how this investigation may result."

Fudge opened and closed his mouth several times, turning his bowler hat around with trembling hands. "But, sir, surely he would reconsider…"

Kid quirked an eyebrow. "No, he won't."

Harry thought that Fudge would keep arguing; and it seemed the Minister did too because his mouth remained open a little longer before getting closed in a pout.

"Can we start NOW?" spat Liz, desperate. "This place seriously gives me the creeps! I mean, **seriously**!"

"I'm on it." Kid turned in the direction of Harry and Duddley. "Have you returned here since the Dementors appeared?" he questioned.

Harry shook his head. "No, I haven't. I've been under house arrestment, to be honest. And I highly doubt my cousin has come anywhere nearby," he said turning to Duddley who shook his head violently, but said nothing.

"Are you okay?" asked Kid.

Duddley's eyes widened and he stumbled backwards trying to take cover behind his mother, who willingly aided.

"Stop bullying him, Kid," sighed Liz rolling her eyes.

Harry almost snorted at the thought that his bully of a cousin was getting a taste of his own medicine by a kid in a bad Halloween costume.

"I'm not bullying him! I just asked if he was okay!"

"Yes, you are. Just end with this quickly so we all can go."

The young Reaper grimaced and sighed. "Fine." Once again he turned to Harry and Duddley. "Where were you?"

Harry looked around thoughtfully, before pointing. "Well, when they appeared we were somewhere near this point, later Duddley tried to escape in that direction," he explained.

Kid nodded. "That's all I needed to know." He turned to Fudge. "I'll start now. Please, stand back."

Everyone was quick to follow his instruction.

"Would you mind explaining how this works, my Lord?" Dumbledore smiled brightly.

"Oh, of course." Kid turned to the powerful wizard politely. "I'll perform a Soul Projection by retrieving the Soul Wavelength residuals from the area and using my own Soul Wavelength in order to mend any missing pieces . Then, I'll be able to project a 'recording' of the attack…" Before Fudge could protested, Kid quickly added, "… if there was any, that's it.

"For this, I require a reference; taking the Soul Wavelengths of those who were attacked as a guide, I will focus on the traces left by the same time as theirs.

"Since their emotions must have been strong during the attack and they hadn't come back since then -adding the particular signature of the Dementors' madness- it should be rather easy to isolate the trace."

Several eyes blinked in confusion and more than one mouth fell open; however, what the boy had said must have make sense for Dumbledore since he only nodded in contempt and smiled wider.

"Ah! Thank you, milord; please, proceed."

Kid looked around, and since no one protested he step forward and raised his hands; he performed a quick series of hand signs before pointing forward with both indexes; rays of purplish-white energy were shot from the tip of his fingers and black skulls cackled around him. The light exploded in front of him, fading into a skull design similar to the one of his mask drawn in the ground along the street.

Harry stumbled backwards when ghostly images of him and Duddley condensed within the skull of light.

They were arguing, and even thought there was no sound, Harry was able to recall every single word that had been yelled that night. His past self had his wand raised and trained on Duddley.

"There! You see? No Dementor! The boy lied! He hexed his cousin! It's an act of hatred to Muggles!" cried Fudge euphorically, overblown by his triumph.

"No, wait!" protested Harry. "I didn't hex him! There is more! Keep watching!"

Kid didn't answer; his arms remained up, his face frowning in concentration.

The replay continued. Suddenly the ghostly boys stiffened; Duddley shrunk, trembling, while Harry looked around warily. They remained like that for a few seconds before the ghostly Harry stood trembling; a moment later the past Duddley had punched him in the side of the head, throwing him to the ground, his wand falling from his hand.

The wizard boy had scrambled to his knees, searching frantically for his wand; his cousin had blundered away, hitting the alley fence, stumbling.

Harry had shouted something to him but he still had run, directly to a tall dark hooded figured that had appeared at the street entrance and was slowly making its way to the blond boy…

The real Duddley shrieked; he hadn't seen the Dementors before, only felt them.

It must be quite a shock to truly see what had happened, what almost had happened…

To see how close they had been…

The real Harry watched as another hooded figure appeared in the projection from the other entrance of the street and began to glide towards his past self, who in turn stiffened in the ground and shout to Duddley…

"There must be a mistake!" yelled Fudge as the projected Harry stumbled forward and raised his wand…

Patty scowled at the man with rage. "SHUT THE HELL UP! I'M WATCHING THIS!"

"We are done, anyway; those were Dementors," said Kid, lowering his arms and stretching his shoulders. The skull on the ground broke apart in fragments of light and smoke and the projections dissolved. "As accorded, tomorrow at eight o'clock, I'll proceed to destroy them."

"It can't be!" cried Fudge as tears appeared on his eyes. "There must be a mistake…"

Liz casually stood at the side of the Minister. "So you think Kid made a mistake?" she questioned while examining the tips of her hair. "Because I must tell you that he masters this; he practiced with Lord Death all day yesterday."

Kid shrugged. "It's okay. He doesn't have to believe me."

Fudge paled. "No! I didn't mean that!"

"You can discuss this with my Father if you want; he probably is watching.

"As far as it concerns me, I'll see you tomorrow at eight in Azkaban."

"Please, Sir…" Fudge implored.

"Talk to my Father; I have no say in the matter," stated Kid. "Though why you would keep such disgusting asymmetrical creatures is beyond me."

"It isn't enough time!"

"You were notified two days ago; you had plenty of time."

"But, but… You'll probably need more than that to make preparations, organize your people…"

"What people?" asked Patty blinking. "Kid, are we waiting for more people?"

"No, it will be just the three of us, as usual."

Fudge's jaw dropped. "Just you three… against all the Dementors…? But they are hundreds!"

"I'm aware."

The Minister spun around to face Dumbledore; his face was red and his eyes reflected his hatred.

"You! You did this!" he pointed to Dumbledore, tears welling up on his eyes. "This is your entire fault!" He turned to Kid once again. "Milord! He is the one responsible for this! I'm certain!"

"It's for you to find how this happened and act in consequence," replied the Grim Reaper. "My Father's concern is about the Dementors. DWMA has no more interest in the issue nor has the habit of getting involved in governmental affairs without reason..."

"But getting rid of Azkaban Dementors…!"

"It's completely justify and necessary. Especially since last June…" Kid's eyes became cold. "My Father prevented you and every single one of those who preceded you about those creatures, but you refused to listen.

"He would probably have granted you more time if you hadn't been stupid enough to urge them to devour that prisoner's soul two years ago. Still, I believe he will be willing to lend you some provisory guards… At least until you are finish organizing your own.

"Now, if you excuse us, we must leave; I still have to report back to my Father."

Fudge's eyes widened; once again he wiped the sweat of his forehead. "O-of course, milord; I won't delay you anymore…"

Kid looked around, to the rest of the gathering and bowed his head as farewell; a flash of dark light appeared in the boy's hand and a skateboard decorated with the same design as his mask materialized.

"About time…" muttered Liz, shinning a bright pink light and transforming into an eagle pistol that flew to Kid's waiting hand -just like her sister did.

The boy step on the skateboard wielding an upside-down gun in each hand and smoothly propelled himself away from Magnolia Street and Private Drive.

Dumbledore –hands behind his back- step forward. "At least we can state that Harry's actions were justified; he was defending his cousin and himself."

Fudge glared sourly at him, but the Headmaster just smiled benignly.

The Minister threw his cape over his shoulder and marched away, stomping hard. The Aurors and MacNair were quick to follow, though the pretty pink-haired girl looked over her shoulder and waved cheerfully to Harry's group.

"That idiot…" snarled Moody under his breath. "How many times did I tell her to be more inconspicuous…?" Louder he said: "We'll take the Muggles and Harry back to their home."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well… I also must retire now; there are matters that required my immediate attention…"

The Headmaster said his good-byes and disappeared.

Harry's heart sank to his feet.

Was he condemned to spend the rest of the summer with the Dursley?

Was he being punished even if that Kid had stated that there had been Dementors involved?

A reassuring squeeze and a conspiratorial wink from Mr. Weasley put him at ease.

Heading back to Private Drive Number 4, -to ditch the Dursleys and retrieve his belongings- the threat of being expelled from Hogwarts gone and the perspective of spending the rest of the Summer at the Weasleys', Harry's chest felt light and fuzzy inside.

Cautiously, The-Boy-Who-Lived reached in his pocket and touched his Invisibility Cloak: no warmness, no electric shock. Whatever had happened before was over.


	4. Deathly Report

**Death the Kid and the Broken Soul.**

Chapter Four.

_Deathly Report._

"At the end, it was a good thing that those Dementors attacked us, right? Now everybody will know that Voldemort is back," Harry commented with a smile as he, Mr. Weasley and Moody followed the Dursleys back to Private Drive.

"Use your head for a second, boy," snarled Moody. "He didn't send the Dementors after you. For starters, he wants to finish you himself. And even if he'd decided to take you from the picture, he would do it in a more subtle way; not leaving your soulless body behind so everyone would question what had happened. Besides, it's not the right time to kill you off."

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "And when would that be?"

"Not when the whole Wizarding World has their eyes glued on you thanks to those Prophet articles."

"What Prophet articles?" Potter frowned.

"Dumbledore believes it was someone from the Ministry," informed Mr. Weasley. "Someone with resources and connections; probably a Death Eater that wanted to please You-Know-Who."

"A rather stupid Death Eater then," spat Moody. "Voldemort has absolute power over his idiots; none of them would dare to mess with someone their dear lord has publicly claimed for killing."

Now, that was reassuring…

Mr. Weasley shook his head. "I know the Ministry has been rather irrational lately, but to send Dementors to attack Harry? No one is that insane!"

Moody raised an eyebrow. "Are we talking about the same Ministry of Magic?

"Well, doesn't really matter… There will be changes soon enough… Hope the new Minister isn't a complete idiot, by the very least."

"New Minister? Is Fudge quitting?" asked Harry wide-eyed.

"After upsetting Lord Death and forcing his child come to England?" Moody huffed and rolled his eye. "Not to mention Azkaban new management issue… He'll be lucky if he lasts to the end of the week."

The rest of the trip back to Number 4 was rather tranquil; the Dursleys were almost running, both to escape their guards and to avoid their stirring neighbors catching them with such companions.

-o-o-o-

After a long, twisted and rather confusing trip involving a Disillusion spell, broomsticks, the Knight Bus –which they had used to cross a mall-, a few portkeys, some decoys, a secret guard (consistent in two or three disguised wizards and witches that kept rotating and taking turns to jump from behind corners, trashcans and even dog houses…), some fake flu powder, a visit to London Tower dungeons, a short cut through Cornualles, hiding in a public bathroom for what Harry deemed as an eternity, and reading the address from some piece of paper… The-Boy-Who-Lived and his protectors made it to a dark, gloomy house by the name 12 Grimmauld Place just in time for lunch.

Mrs. Weasley was more than glad to feed Harry farther away than he thought was humanly possible.

"I'm so glad you finally made it," stated the woman while serving him another piece of kidney pie and potatoes and sending daggers to Moody.

The old Auror just shrugged, took a gulp from his hip flask's content, stabbed his own piece of kidney pie, inspected it very carefully and threw it in his mouth.

Mrs. Weasley sighed and rolled her eyes. She then poured some more pumpkin juice in her husband glass.

The kitchen door bursted open and Sirius, Hermione, and the Weasley progeny came in.

"Harry!" Sirius' greeting was almost a bark.

"How went your Hearing, mate?"

"It wasn't a Hearing, Ron," corrected his father. "It was a mere investigation."

"Yeah, of course!" growled Sirius gloomy. "A trip to the park with the Reaper's spawn! I bet you had fun!"

"The Reaper's spawn?" repeated George with a deep frown.

"Not important," Mr. Weasley quickly dismissed. "Kids, once Harry is done, would you show him his room? Harry, you'll be sharing with Ron…"

"Arthur."

That sole word sent the entire room in the utmost silence.

Mrs. Weasley's face was contorted with anger, fear, resentful and worst of all, hurt.

Frowning deeply, her head slightly tilted to the side, Mrs. Weasley regarded her husband with a stern look. "I'm sure when Sirius said 'Reaper' he didn't mean _'the Grim Reaper'_…"

"Of course not, Mum," Fred rolled his eyes. "Everybody knows it doesn't have children."

"He has at least one," said Moody, bathing the food in his throat with a good gulp of whatever he had in his flask.

The statement was welcomed by an eerie silence… that didn't last long.

Molly turned sharply –and quite frenetically- to her husband -her face was twisted with fear and denial- and continued talking, actively ignoring Moody's comment: "And if you, by some stupid and crazy idea, ever go to the encounter of such a creature, you would certainly told me, wouldn't you? SO I'LL BE ABLE TO SMACK SOME COMMON SENSE IN THAT THICK SKULL OF YOURS!"

Mr. Weasley stuffed his almost whole forth piece of kidney pie in his mouth.

"AND YOU DEFINITELY WOULD NEVER DARE TO BRING A CHILD LIKE HARRY TO THAT THING…"

Mr. Weasley half swallowed, half chocked.

"ARTHUR!"

"Molly! Dearest! You really outdid yourself this time! This pie is the best I have ever had! Truly when I think you can't be anymore perfect…" Mr. Weasley spoke quickly, not even stopping once to take a breath,

"_**Arthur**_…" Mrs. Weasley's hiss made her husband flinched. _**"You certainly didn't!" **_She turned to Mad-Eye. "And you! How could you allow my husband and Harry near that thing?!"

Sirius had the decency of looking ashamed.

…Until Mrs. Weasley's wrath found him.

"_And you knew about this… AND YOU ALLOWED THEM TO TAKE HARRY TO HIM! YOUR OWN GODSON!"_

The argument was quickly escalating, or I should said that Mrs. Weasley screams were quickly rising while the men in the kitchen cowarded at a corner, praying for it to end.

"Hey! I didn't want to, but Dumbledore said it was completely safe!"

"Safe?! To meet Death?! How can that ever be safe?!"

"It wasn't Lord Death, but his son," muttered Arthur helplessly. "He must be around Ginny and Ron's age… And Dumbledore was there also."

"WAIT!" George cried. "You mean Dad and Harry met a Grim Reaper?!"

"You'd said you'll be accompanying Harry to the investigation! You never said anything about Death's child being there!" accused Fred pointing to his father.

Ron stared at his best friend wide-eyes and open-mouthed; Hermione was extremely pale and trembling (Harry didn´t know if it was due to fear or the possible knowledge she could gather by cornering and questioning him inmisericorde, though he was pretty sure the latter would prevail eventually); Ginny was also paled, so paled, she had had to take seat; the twins stared at their father and then at Harry and back to their father anxiously as did their mother, though her anxiety was very well hidden under a mask of murder intent.

"You met a Grim Reaper?" asked Fred accusingly, stabbing Harry with his index finger.

"I guess so," shrugged Harry, rubbing the abused area. "Though, to be honest, he didn't seem such a big deal.

"Sure, he did a pretty cool spell to show what happened in the Alley with the Dementors, but either than that, the weird looking skull of dark magic, the skateboard that came out from his hand and the girls that turned in guns, he seemed pretty normal."

"But he was a Grim Reaper?"

"Oh, yes, he is," grumbled Moody, becoming the target of everyone's eyes. "Back when I was Head of Aurors the first time Voldemort raised," (trembling and shivering from the Weasley family, inserted here), "the boy was often with his father whenever the current Minister asked for help; not that it happened frequently: you don't speak to Lord Death unless you _have to_."

"You said he hadn't changed at all in twenty year," pointed Harry.

"He hasn't."

The kitchen door opened with a squeak, revealing Professor McGonagall and Snape, making the cheery party gathered in the room jumped with a start.

Sirius was the very first one to recover. "WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?!"

"Wait! Your house…?" frowned Harry remembering the gloomy hall, but his question was ignored.

Snape smiled in disgust. "You should ask the Headmaster, Black, since he is the one who called me to attend to your… _lovely house."_

"Severus…" warned McGonagall. "You too, Sirius."

The Transfiguration teacher then turned to the still fuming Molly Weasley.

"Molly, what's wrong?"

"_They went to Death's encounter!"_

The older witch frowned and glared to Moody and Mr. Weasley.

"You didn't tell her?!" She admonished in a voice that made Harry and Ron flinched for its familiarity.

While Professor McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley scoled the two full grown-up men with the ease years of practice confer, the door opened once more and Remus Lupin entered; he eyed both Sirius and Snape who were contently staring at each other with murderous intention from opposite corners of the kitchen and sighed.

"Kids," he nodded smiling to the young wizards and witches before taking seat at the table. "How has been your summer so far?"

Before any of them could utter answer, a scream –mix of anger and horror- resonate from the hall.

Harry stood dumbstruck; he knew that voice, he had heard it that very same morning.


End file.
